Ghost Story
by lamentations
Summary: Suze has always been a mediator. She helps ghosts. So what happens when she dies, and becomes a ghost?


**Chapter One: Highway to Hell**

Disclaimer: These characters don't belong to me, they belong to Meg Cabot, yadda yadda yadda. Do I really need to explain this? After all, this is

A/N: Okay, I made a fanfic. I was bored. Don't flame me please, but constructive criticism is fine. This was written before _Twilight_, and I haven't even read the book yet, seeing as I just bought it.

* * *

As humans, we are curious. We long to know the unknown. Ignorance is frightening. That is why we are afraid of death.

Some say that when you die, your life flashes before your eyes. Some say there is a light at the end of the tunnel. Others say that the moment before death, everything suddenly becomes clear. They say that all the things we long and ache to know are abruptly realized. Although I did not experience any of this, I'll tell you what I did experience — pain.

* * *

It was cold.

Well, of course it was, at this time of night, but it was a different cold. This cold, agonizing and excruciating as it was, was painfully comforting. This cold was alright, because after it, I would never experience _real _cold again. The cold could have killed me, though. That is, of course, if I wasn't already dying in the first place.

Funny thing, death. I mean, we make up so much hype about it, and most of us are terrified of it. We want to know everything about it. And, of course, what's after it.

I was never really that afraid of death. Of course, that might be because my job required me to meet the dead on their way. I found it extremely annoying when one of them refused to cooperate and were just bitter about being dead. But goddamn, if this was what death was like, then no wonder why they were so bitter. It _hurt. _

I laughed cruelly. Of course it hurt, I had just been stabbed, for God's sake. What did I expect, free lollipops for everyone, rainbows and ponies?

It was my own fault, of course. I had come here for love, or at least what I thought was love, and got caught up in a silly deal. How could I have been so stupid? It wasn't like I had grown in a bubble! I grew up in Brooklyn! But, hey, a street kid told me she could resurrect the dead if I gave her some money, and — oh, I don't know, she looked sincere. So she takes my money, runs off, and gets her boyfriend to stab me. Real sincere, huh?

I am totally ashamed of myself. When the guy came at me? No, I didn't use self defence and break his nose. I just stood there in shock while he stabbed me. That's not even the worst part.

While I was lying there, right after I was stabbed, I thought, _It's alright, Jesse will come soon. He'll save me. _Stupid, right? First I let a guy I could have taken stab me, and now I'm expecting another guy — a _dead _guy, nonetheless — come to be the prince to my damsel-in-distress? So I stayed there, waiting for him to come. I was there for hours. He never came .So I let a guy stab me, and then I ruin my chance of survival by lying there for hours instead of getting help like I should have. _It's my fault. _

JESSE NEVER CAME. I was there to help HIM, but he didn't hear my cries for help. Or maybe he did, and he just decided to ignore them. It's not like he could have just gotten stuck in traffic. He could have just, you know, appeared in that ghostly way and helped me. Or he could have gotten Father Dom. But no one came. No one knew.

WHAT WAS I THINKING? Even if it would have worked, what would happen? How could Jesse just start living, without any records or anything? Where would he live? How could I explain him to my parents — or to anyone? He wouldn't be able to get a real job, and he didn't have much of an education. Even if he wasn't a ghost anymore, we wouldn't be able to have a normal relationship.

He was a ghost. I was, well, alive. No one else would be able to see him, expect other mediators like Paul or Father Dom. It was my fault. I was responsible for the sticky red liquid flowing down the right side of my stomach. It was my stupidity.

* * *

As humans, we are curious. We long to know the unknown. Ignorance is frightening. That is why we are afraid of death.

Some say that when you die, you go to either of two places: heaven or hell. Heaven is for the good, the righteous. In heaven you are with the Lord, our Saviour, and you will be happy. Hell is for the evil, the corrupted. There you will suffer for all of eternity, because of your sins.

Some say that we are reborn. Maybe as humans, or maybe as a peaceful butterfly. We will continue to be reborn for eternity. What happens to you will be determined by your past life. Karma.

Some say that there is nothing. When you die, you are dead. You are gone. You cease to exist. There is nothing after it. For the rest of eternity, you will be erased, and eventually forgotten.

I wouldn't know which of these are true, although I am dead. I, Susannah Simon, turned into a ghost.

**A/N: Be sure to leave a review. ;)**


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